


corrigendum

by ntb (prysm)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Anxiety, Emotional Abuse, F/F, Homophobia, like about 16-17 years old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:15:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4436843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prysm/pseuds/ntb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re broken,” they’d spat, words searing themselves into Pacifica’s chest. “You are broken and worthless, a disgrace. You are not worthy of this family.”</p>
<p>“You’re not broken, Pacifica,” Mabel had told her later that night, holding Pacifica close as the blonde stained her sweater with tears. “You are so beautiful and amazing and they don’t deserve you in their life.”</p>
<p>She wishes it was Mabel she believed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	corrigendum

**She** stil **l** goe **s** ou **t** to see Mabel.

They told her not to, insulted her, yelled at her. Her parents’ words had burned like poison, coursed through her veins like venom, but they never brought out the bell, so she was thankful for that. It was the only reason why she still has hope for what she has with Mabel.

She used to go right out the front door, maybe she was yelling, maybe she was crying, maybe both. But she’d make a show of her exit, because she knows they know where she’s going, and she just wanted to feel in control.

(It never lasted; the journey back home she shakes and has to take deep breaths while counting to 10, because it might be the last straw, the last time they let this happen.)

Nowadays, most times, she slips out the backdoor, the patio, the window, anywhere she won’t draw attention to herself. She doesn’t know where they are, then, but she knows that if they saw her they wouldn’t care. They never cared, not anymore. She’s pretty sure she’s only still around so her parents can avoid the the nosy media. The last time they spoke to her was weeks ago, their words of hate ingrained in her mind.

“You’re broken,” they’d spat, the words searing themselves into Pacifica’s chest. “You’re broken and worthless, a disgrace. You’re not worthy of this family.”

“You’re not broken, Pacifica,” Mabel had told her later, holding Pacifica close as the blonde stained her sweater with tears. “You are so beautiful and amazing and they don’t deserve you in their life.”

She wishes it was Mabel she believed.

She wishes it was Mabel’s words that she took to heart, Mabel’s smile that gave her strength, Mabel’s laugh that stayed with her throughout her day, well into her dreams. Wishes it was Mabel who filled her heart with joy and not her parents who filled it with fear.

But it was always her parents who stayed at the forefront of her mind, always her parents who stayed her priority. Don’t upset them, Pacifica. Please them, Pacifica. Just do what they say, Pacifica. She hated them for it. She hated herself for being controlled by them.

But at the last part, she remembers Mabel, who tells her it isn’t her fault, who tells her she is an amazing person over and over, ballads of praise and love that Pacifica sometimes can almost think of as true.

*~*

It’s December, and the twins are here for winter break when her parents give Pacifica something she hadn’t even thought to worry about: a choice.

“Break up with the Pines girl,” they told her. “Or you might as well never set foot in this house again.”

It should’ve been an easy choice; she loved Mabel. Mabel was one of the only things that made her happy. Her parents didn’t love her. They didn’t make her happy.

But she thinks of the future- what would she do? She had nothing going for her besides her family’s wealth. Where would she stay? In Gravity Falls? She’d forever be known as The Disowned Northwest, a moniker that might as well be branded into her chest. No one would bother to know her. Just how she managed to get kicked out of her family. She’d have nothing left.

She wonders if she’d see her parents again. Wonders what they say, then gives a bitter, bitter laugh because she knows they wouldn’t care. They never cared about anyone but themselves.

She thinks she probably inherited that from them, as Mabel’s eyes fill with tears when she tells her, “I can’t do this anymore.”

She makes sure Mabel knows it’s not her fault, that it’s just Pacifica being stupid, that it’s Pacifica being scared, that Pacifica is weak, pathetic, _selfish_ , to which Mabel yells, “If you know all that, then why don’t you prove _them and yourself wrong?!”_

The desperation hangs between them, Pacifica’s mouth unable to form words. And then Mabel, poor, sweet, beautiful Mabel, whispers, “Don’t you love me?”

The sharp December wind carries her words away as if they were nothing, as Pacifica only murmurs a quiet, “I’m sorry,” running back to her car and leaving Mabel behind, leaving any life and love Pacifca had ever felt with her.

And when Pacifica sets foot into the cold foyer of the Northwest mansion, she knows she’s made a mistake.

She waits until the late hours of night bleed into the early hours of morning. She quickly gathers what she needs into a bag, clothes, money, other little things she suspects she’ll have use for. The house is silent, and she prays to whoever is above that it’ll stay that way as she makes her exit.

She tiptoes past the living room entrance when an ice-cold voice nips at her ears. “Going somewhere?”

Her mother sits on the couch, hands folded in her lap, glare as cold and as icicles that hang from the trees outside. It’s a sharp contrast to her father who stands next to his wife, his crazy, wildfire eyes eating away at Pacifica’s courage like flames to oxygen.

She’s never seen them cold, so angry. She forces her thoughts on something else, not on the bell, not the bell, not the bell.

She thinks of Dipper, the plea in his voice when he told not be like her family, that she didn’t have to be like her family, the first summer she'd met the twins. Thinks of Mabel, once telling her how she’s not so bad, to the time she told her she loved her, that there is and always has been good in her heart. Mabels who’s eyes and words were always filled with love and affection, of honesty.

And she thinks of _herself_. Thinks of _her_ happiness, _her_ love, _her_ life. She thinks of herself, of what _she_ wants for what feels like the first time in forever.

“I’m leaving,” she finally states. Her voice shakes but she feels strong, feels weights lifting of her shoulders. “I am in love with Mabel Pines, and I’m not going to live my life without her for you. I’ve done lots of things to please you both, but this is one I - I just can’t do. She’s just too important to me.” Her voice cracks on the last sentence, and she curses herself for being too weak to keep her voice solid.

Her parents sit stock-still, and suddenly the rooms seems so small. Too many things could happen, in too little time. Her breath is caught in her throat, as if the faintest exhale could set her parents off.

But they stay put. “Empty your pockets,” her father demands. “You’re not leaving this house with anything that belongs to us.”

She does so, and a moment later $400 and some solid gold jewelry rests upon the table.

Her mother clucks her tongue. “Only so little? Surely we’ve taught you to plan ahead better,” she reprimands. “Your coat as well.”

“It was all I had,” Pacifica defends, shrugging off her coat, beforeshe remembers she doesn’t have to defend herself anymore, doesn’t have to justify every little thing she does. Leaving everything behind is scary, dreadful, but she also feels freer than she ever has when she wasn’t with Mabel. She turns to walk away, then stops, unable to resist one glance over her shoulder back at her parents.

Behind her, her father picks up the coffee table and flips it as far he can, the glass shards flying every where. More than a few strike her, and the trickle of blood above her left eye is the last sign telling her to hurry and leave the hell she used to call home.

She shuts the door loudly as she exits, regardless of the fact it can’t be heard over the havoc her father is wreaking. She closes her eyes, head resting against the cool wood. After a minute, she pries herself off, making her way to the side of the mansion. The large bag she’d packed full rests in the cool, wet, grassy spot beneath her bedroom window that she’d thrown it from.

“Surely we’ve taught you to plan ahead better,” were her mother’s last words to her. And they had. Silently thanking her parents one last time, she shoulders her bag, setting off towards the only place she (hopefully) has left.

*~*

Gravity Falls is dark and cold, the December wind raking over her skin. She pulls out the wool hat she’d packed earlier, reveling in the instant warmth it brings. She trudges on, her insides fueled by a place that might finally be able to feel like home. To a girl who is the closest thing to “home” she has.

But she’s still a person, still Pacifica and she’s still _weak._ Her thin jacket isn’t enough, and her legs feel as if they are tethered to the earth, slowly pulling her closer and closer to the ground.

The Mystery Shack comes into view and silent tears fall down her face as she collapses into the nearby trash cans.

You are so close Pacifica, so _close_ , she thinks. Please don’t let yourself go now.

She lays on the ground, fresh snow beginning to coat her body in an icy, almost comforting embrace. The stars shine bright tonight, bright bright bright, which makes Pacifica think of her smile. It’s the last image in her mind as her vision darkens and blurs.

*~*

“Pacifica?”

She opens her eyes, immediately shutting them- there’s a light much too bright, too livid, too hot. She tries again, slowly, and sits up as well. She’s on the couch in the Mystery Shack’s living room. The familiar furniture, walls and aroma are enough to almost make her cry. Dipper sits in front of her, his eyes a mixture of anger and concern. A sharp pain shoots through her forehead, and her fingers brushing over an unfamiliar cotton wad.

“Your head was bleeding when I found you,” is Dipper’s answer to the unspoken question, his voice mirroring the look in his eyes. “There were cuts on your hands and arms, too. Why?”

She ignores his question, only muttering a soft, “Thank you.”

“Pacifica… what are you doing here?”

“I know- I know I messed up, Dipper.” He looks as if he’s about to snort, because, yeah, you did mess up, Pacifica. You broke Mabel’s heart. “But I came because I fixed it. And now I have nowhere to go.”

“What are you talking about?” He furrows his brows. “You made your choice already, didn’t you?”

She shakes her head. “I made the wrong one,” she confesses, the words tumbling off of her tongue. It’s the first time she said them out loud.

Realization floods into his eyes. “You mean-”

She smiles, and she hates that it’s still filled more with the hopelessness her parents taught her than the faith Mabel gave her. “I’m not a Northwest, not anymore. Yay, right?”

And like a dam breaking, the torrent of tears she’d been holding back come sliding out, heavier and heavier with each sniffle and whimper. Dipper tells her he’ll go wake Mabel up, she’ll talk to Mabel- but it’s not until a second pair of arms wraps around her midsection that he leaves and doesn’t come back.

In all her hysterical crying, the sobs that wrack her body, she knows it’s her. Knows these arms, the strands of hair that tickle her cheeks, the vanilla cinnamon-scented embrace she’s cried and slept in so much what felt like ages ago. Neither of them say anything, Mabel knowing that Pacifica just needed this, needed something raw instead of words. She’s always loved that about Mabel.

“I’m sorry,” chokes out Pacifca, the words strangled and ugly. “I’m always so scared and stupid and just like my parents-”

“Pacifica, please don’t say that-”

“No!” She sounds so, so desperate but she knows is. She’s so desperate and scared, her emotions sewn into every word she speaks. “I wasn’t thinking about you then- just me. I was just- I didn’t think there was gonna be anything left if I left them. But I was wrong, because I would’ve had you.”

The words hang in the air as she cries and cries into the familiar crook of Mabel’s shoulder. Mabel tells her she gets it, she knows, she understands, her words shifting into sweet nothings, hushed whispers against her ear.

“Mabel?” She’s feels she could’ve been crying for five minutes, or maybe an hour. “Do I…do I still have you?”

Pacifica’s heart cracks a tiny bit more with each second Mabel doesn’t answer, until she says, “Always.”

She doesn’t know how she could’ve ever let Mabel go.

“Because I love you,” she continues. “And I’m- I’m still hurt. I understand, but I’m still hurt, but you’re forgiven.”

There’s a million things Pacifica wants to say, but her eyes are droopy and her jaw feels tight, so she only tells Mabel that she loves her, too.

She sighs into the blondes hair. “Where will you stay, Pacifica? We’re only here for breaks. We have to go back to California soon.”

She just wants to sleep. “We’ll figure something out,” is all she says- all she can say.

Mabel leans down to kiss her. It’s soft and gentle yet full of life and energy, in the way only Mabel could ever make her feel. Pacifica’s tears still roll down her face, mingling with what she can only guess are Mabel’s own tears. They taste of salt and dread, of broken hearts and broken dreams, but Mabel tastes like cinnamon and warmth and wholeness and home, and that’s all that matters to Pacifica. Not the future, not her parents, not the upcoming, lonely year, not the demons Pacifica feels she’s been fighting for ages. Just Mabel, just Pacifica, just them, and Pacifica, tears staining their lips as they try put back broken pieces she’s scared won’t fit, **f** inally **l** ets **h** erself **go**.

**Author's Note:**

> First fanfic uploaded onto AO3 yay! and it's angst. i wrote this for Mabifica Month and thought I'd upload it here, too.  
> P.S. I like to pretend her parents get into a fatal car crash and pacifica gets the house and money and stuff because her parents are horrible


End file.
